


Mother knows best

by Leigh_0001



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Alternate Universe - Rapunzel Fusion, F/M, Fantasy, Happy Foxes (All For The Game), How Do I Tag, I Tried, I'm Sorry, M/M, Magic, Rapunzel Elements, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leigh_0001/pseuds/Leigh_0001
Summary: Trapped in his tower, Nathaniel has become accustomed to his life of solitude. He has made peace with the fact that he would never be able to leave, and has become content with the life he was living.That was until Andrew Minyard broke into his tower, and proposed a deal.
Relationships: Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Seth Gordon/Allison Reynolds
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	Mother knows best

**Author's Note:**

> So... yeah. I tried my best with this, but I’m sorry if it’s not good enough. I am not confident in my writing at all, and have re-written this 3 times, even though it's still short. I want to say that I was inspired by ClockworkDragon, and think their Rapunzel au so far is amazing. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy. Sorry if it's bad.  
> 1/1 as I’ll probably never continue this, sorry!

Twilight melted away into a majestic sunrise, red orange glow seeping over the horizon as if the light itself was being poured from a molten sun. Powerful rays flooded over the landscape lighting every blade of grass, shining from each leaf.

The mural he was painting this time, was nearly finished to perfection. 

He loved to indulge in the bright colours of the world outside, though he would never see them himself. He liked to imagine a life where he was free, a life where he was without worry. But for now he would be content with painting his fantasy's across the walls of the stone tower that entraps him.

Nathaniel had woken early. The morning mist was beginning to clear and the dew laden grass glimmered from outside. The sun was casting light of orange and pink into the clouds- and he couldn't help but admire the scenery.

It would be beautiful, if it wasn't so terribly cruel.

Nathaniel has spent the past 6 years trapped in his tower, and he hasn't seen a single soul since.

Perhaps he should be more upset, but he knows it's better than living with his father.

He still remembers the night he left the Wesninski Kingdom. In the cloak of nightfall, his mother had snuck into his room- whispering promises of safety if he came with her. How could he deny such an offer, from the one person who had never hurt him?

She had grabbed him by his hand, dragging him out of there with a fervour he had never seen before. The intensity of it all hadn't dawned on him until he reached the forest.

His mother had grabbed his hair, and yanked him towards her. “Abram. Do not detour from the path, carry onward until you see the weeping willows- and only then shall you enter the tower of dreams.”

Nathaniel's jaw had gone pliant, as he stared at her in shock. He didn't want to go anywhere without her, and almost considered turning back- before her hand made it's way to his jaw. “If you want any chance of living, you will listen to me Abram. You will be safe in the tower, as long as you never leave. Do you hear me, boy?”

With a nod from Nathaniel, she had disappeared into the night's shadows. Magic was both a blessing and a curse, and he hated how she had used it to leave him. There was nothing he could do but continue onward as he entered the forest.

The sky was a black tranquillity that brought no comfort, and he hugged his arms tightly around himself as if he could save himself from the danger the shadows brought. He knew his mother would never abandon him without reason, so repeated her words as if a mantra, as he made his way through the winding paths.

With no light to guide his way, he hummed his song to himself.

“Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine, make the clock reverse- bring back what once was mine. What once was mine..”

As his hair illuminated the pathway, it was clear to see why his mother had chosen this forest. It was enchanted. As soon has his song had been sung, the trees had took to whispering in his ears, and the wind yelled vehemently to continue onward.

He didn't know what to expect, as his feet carried him mindlessly along the pathways. As day dawned crisp and clear, he started to doubt his mother. Had she sent him in here to die? He knew he was a burden, but the thought caused him to stop cold.

All her worries would be absolved, if he wasn't here. The thought left him feeling hollow and empty. A small part of him still believed his mother wanted to save him, so he followed her instructions all the same.

As he neared closer to his destination, he saw two willow trees hanging over him, joyously celebrating his presence. They whispered to him in a sing-song voice, promising him safety. As he moved their green as grass leaves out of the way, he came face to face with a tower.

The tower of stone, stood tall before him. It was beautiful. Vines circled the walls, and the window were stained with age- but it stood strong all the same. As he neared, he could feel the magic radiating off of it in waves.

He placed his palm across the bricks, admiring the sheer allure of it all. But as his palm connected, a doorway appeared- it's presence only activated by the magic held within his locks. As he stepped inside, the door dissolved leaving him with no other choice but to climb the spindly staircase.

As he reached the top, he understood what his mother had meant.

He gazed upon the living room filled with paints and tapestries and knew it had once been hers. It was alluring, the promise of it all. Magic filled every crevice, and he stood still with shock. He understood what she had meant. This tower was a dream. 

He felt the magic radiating around him, and knew nobody with ill-intent could ever enter. It was a safe haven. 

His father could never come for him here, for he could not wield magic, but he could never leave.

If he were to leave, he would be discovered. He would be considered a traitor to his Kingdom, and his father would take joy in capturing him. Exploiting him and his magic for his own selfish needs and desires. 

It was an easy choice whether to stay or not. Though he was never truly living, he could make peace with the solitude of the tower.

As he finished his mural, he set off to bake his bread.

It was a simple routine really. He baked, read, painted- anything to occupy the time. It was a simple life, but a life all the same.

As he kneaded the dough, he heard a noise from outside of the tower.

The small chirping of a bird pecking at the window alerted him that Robin was here.

Robin was a magnificent bird. She had soft brown feathers, and her red belly stood in contrast to her skin. She was the only company he had, and he often found himself talking to her.

He had never intended on her becoming important to him. But when she had flown through the window, wing broken, he couldn't find it in his heart to leave her to die.

He knew that he was like Robin once: lost, hurt and abandoned, so took care of her, nurturing her back to health.

She had never really left him after that, despite his best attempts at releasing her into the forest.

She flew into the tower often, seeking attention and refuge from the man who had become her friend. He almost believed she sought comfort in him. He knew he did, her. It was a nice thought.

It was nice to not be totally alone.

Robin flew to his shoulder, and perched upon it for the remainder of the day.

He continued on with his daily activities, before finally resting on the oak chair, and allowing himself rest.

As he drifted off, he heard a sharp noise- immediately making his blood run cold.

Someone was entering the tower. The metallic click clack of boots sent his survival instincts flaring, and he grabbed the nearest object he could use, before rounding the corner.

As he hid behind the wall, frying pan in hand, a short blonde man entered the living room.

He looked around sharply with narrowed eyes, almost assessing if anyone was there.

Nathaniel stepped forward, soundlessly tip-toeing closer. 

Nathaniel let in a sharp intake of breath, as the floor creaked and the man turned to face him.

As they locked eyes, Nathaniel lifted his arm, swinging the frying pan at the man's head- and knocked him out cold.


End file.
